Klaine Advent-ures
by It'sNotEasyBeingQueen
Summary: A compilation of stories for the 2015 Klaine Advent Challenge. This is my first time doing this - not sure that I'll hit them all, and I know I'm starting late, but I've got a job, ya know? Anyway, hope you enjoy. Rated T to be safe; probably mostly K in reality. Merry Klainemas!
1. Chapter 1

Anniversary

Kurt checked his phone one last time, reading his most recent text message and sending off a quick reply before pocketing the phone in his jacket. Everything was set. Now if he could just keep himself from jumping out of his own skin for another twenty minutes, he'd be perfect.

"Blaine!" he called across the apartment. "Come on, we've got to go!"

Blaine strolled out of the bedroom, straightening his bowtie and looking as dapper and handsome as Kurt had ever seen him. "You know," he began, slipping his hands into his pockets and sauntering toward Kurt once he noticed the appreciative look on his husband's face, "this may be a new first for us." He stopped in front of Kurt and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "You look incredible tonight," he whispered.

Kurt flushed slightly, feeling amazed that such a simple gesture could still fluster him. "Thank you, sweetheart. You do, too," he replied, giving a reciprocal peck to punctuate the compliment. "Now what's this about a first?"

"Simply that I can't recall you ever being ready before me, that's all," Blaine joked. Kurt rolled his eyes, took Blaine's arm and dragged him to the door. "Very funny, very funny. Now walk."

They were heading out for a special anniversary. While they always celebrated their wedding anniversary, of course, they had also made a point of celebrating another important date in their lives – the day they first met. This year was especially momentous, as it had been ten years since that meeting on the steps of Dalton Academy. In some ways, it seemed like a million years ago, with all that had happened in between, but there were times when they looked at each other and it felt like it was just a minute ago.

A special dinner uptown was planned, but Kurt had asked that they walk through Central Park first, just to make an evening of it. Blaine was happy to comply – they'd spent many a happy hour in Central Park since moving to New York. They approached Bethesda Terrace and began descending the stairs toward the fountain. A few steps from the bottom, Kurt halted, stopping Blaine with him.

"I want to give you your present now," he said, stepping in front of Blaine and looking up at him from one step below him. Blaine's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Here?" he asked.

Kurt smiled, glancing down almost bashfully, then looking back up, putting his hand on Blaine's arm and saying, "Now if you'll excuse me for a moment…" With that, he ran down the last few stairs and disappeared around the corner into the adjacent tunnel. Blaine barely had time to think of what to do before Kurt reemerged, straightening his jacket and buttoning the top button. He had shed his stylish dinner jacket and had donned a blazer that was all too familiar – navy blue with red piping and an emblem of the letter "D" on one side. Blaine started to step down towards his husband, but Kurt held up a hand, stopping him on the last step. "Kurt, what are you…" he trailed off as Kurt made a quick motion with his hand in the direction of the tunnel and Blaine heard voices starting to sing.

"Dum dum dum dum…" they began, as a crew of men in identical Dalton blazers emerged from the tunnel and filled in behind Kurt. Blaine's hand flew to his mouth as he exclaimed, "Oh my God!" There in front of him were nearly all of his original Warbler brothers: Wes, David, Jeff, Nick, Thad, Trent – almost everyone who had been in that room the day that Blaine first sang for Kurt. Quickly enough, the intro passed by and Kurt began to sing lead:

 _You think I'm pretty without any makeup on_

 _You think I'm funny when I tell the punchline wrong_

 _I know you get me so I let my walls come down, down._

 _Before I met you, I was all right_

 _But things were kind of heavy; you brought me to life_

 _Now every February, you'll be my Valentine, Valentine._

They continued through the song, not only singing every line the same way, but doing the exact same choreography as they had done precisely ten years ago. It was incredible.

 _Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love_

 _We can dance until we die, you and I will be young forever_

 _You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream_

 _The way you turn me on, I can't sleep_

 _Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back._

 _My heart stops when you look at me_

 _Just one touch, now baby I believe_

 _This is real, let's take a chance and don't ever look back, don't ever look back._

A small crowd had gathered, both on the Terrace and on the bridge above, while many people just walked past like nothing unusual was happening – this was New York City, after all. Blaine stood enraptured, not knowing when his hand had moved from covering his mouth to resting over his heart, watching his beautiful and amazing husband perform with men who had been (and still were) like brothers to him.

 _Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans_

 _Be your teenage dream tonight._

At the sound of the last note, Blaine surged forward to hug Kurt so hard that they nearly fell over. He pulled back just enough to take Kurt's face in his hands and kiss him soundly, not minding the hoots and hollers from the former Warblers as he did so.

"Happy Anniversary, baby," Kurt said breathlessly once they had parted.

"Kurt…I…how did you…God, I can't even form a sentence right now," Blaine laughed. Kurt laughed with him, and quickly explained how he'd gotten in touch with Wes three months earlier, hoping he would help to get the Warblers back together for this surprise. Wes was in wholeheartedly, and they'd managed to get almost everyone to NYC for the event, making it a sort of mini-reunion weekend. Jeff and Nick remembered the choreography the best, so they recorded themselves going through the routine and sent the recording to everyone. Kurt had been practicing whenever Blaine wasn't around, as well as at Rachel's when he'd go to visit.

"I just wanted to make this day special for you, the way you made it special for me ten years ago," Kurt said, brushing a tear from Blaine's cheek with his thumb. "And besides, I figured I owed you at least one musical number after the way you proposed."

Blaine kissed Kurt's cheek softly, then rested their foreheads together. "Thank you, Kurt. This means the world to me. I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Kurt responded, and now it was Blaine's turn to wipe away a tear. "Oh, and Kurt? About owing me for the proposal?"

"Yeah?" Kurt said, his voice sounding a little emotional.

"Took you long enough."


	2. Chapter 2

Broadway

 _A/N:_ _Ever-so-loosely inspired by something that happened to me my first time in NYC…_

Walking after dinner hand-in-hand, Blaine and Kurt found themselves almost subconsciously straying toward the theater district of New York City. Even after living in the city for a couple of years, the excitement they felt from just walking past the theaters hadn't diminished, and the holiday lights decorating all of the buildings and windows along the way only added to the ambience. They saw shows when they could, and while each was doing some minor theater projects, they were still just dreaming of the day when they would be in an actual big Broadway show.

As they approached one corner, a group of street musicians were plying their trade, playing instrumental versions of holiday songs for passers-by. The couple paused when they heard the opening strains of a song. Kurt gave Blaine a pointed look, wordlessly asking, "Did you…?" Blaine smirked, but shook his head no. Kurt felt Blaine release his hand to gently slide it to the small of his back before taking his other hand and slowly starting to sway back and forth.

"What'cha doing?" he asked, easily falling into rhythm and following in a small circle as pedestrians made their way around on either side.

Blaine pulled Kurt closer, partially out of affection, partially to avoid a particularly determined-looking woman heading straight at them. "Why, I'm dancing with my husband, of course," he replied, his voice soft and his hazel eyes sparkling. Kurt giggled and rested his cheek against Blaine's, just taking in the moment.

He began to sing softly in Blaine's ear, with Blaine answering back just as he had all those years ago when they'd performed their first duet. Kurt closed his eyes, and could see that room at Dalton, the fireplace glowing and the lights flickering in Blaine's eyes. Blaine, too, recalled how they'd danced around each other that afternoon, instead of with each other like now. They continued singing softly with one another through the end of the song, capping it off with a chaste kiss after the last "Ah, but it's cold outside" was sung in harmony.

"We'd better move before we get trampled, sweetheart," Kurt said, giving a tip to the musicians and thanking them, earning a smile from the keyboardist and a wink from the saxophonist.

Walking back toward the subway, Kurt took Blaine's arm in his. "You know we're official now, right?" Blaine asked.

Kurt furrowed his brown in confusion. "I think the rings made it official, if nothing before that did," he responded.

"No, silly. We've officially performed on Broadway," he said with a grin.

"What?"

"Hey. We were standing on Broadway. We sang; we danced. That's performing. It counts." Blaine looked quite proud of himself at his statement, while Kurt just started laughing.

"You are such a dork sometimes," he said, tightening his hold on his husband's arm, Blaine reaching his other hand over and placing it atop Kurt's hand.

"I may very well be a dork, but what I said was totally accurate. You can't argue with that." Kurt opened his mouth, then closed it, seeming to change his mind.

"You know what?" he declared. "I'm going with it. I'm in. We sang and danced on Broadway. Holy crap, Blaine!" he said, the excitement beginning to grip him. "We sang and danced on _Broadway!_ "

They laughed and chatted all the way home, spinning stories about how one day when they made it big, they would be sure to tell the story of their very first Broadway performance.

Two years later, in interview after interview, they did just that.


	3. Chapter 3

Competition

 _A/N:_ _Set while Kurt and Blaine are at Dalton, after their first kiss but before Regionals. Sorry for the delay - I know I'm behind. Trouble posting, and the carpal tunnel isn't helping, either._

Kurt put the finishing touches on his hair, straightened his tie, and gave himself one last look in the mirror. A few short days ago, he had been Kurt Hummel, single and desperately in love; now he was Kurt Hummel, boyfriend and desperately in love. Some things change – some don't.

He headed out the door and down the hall to collect his boyfriend. He knocked enthusiastically and expected the door to swing open almost immediately, just as it had for the past three days. Today, however, it did not. He knocked again and waited, but nothing. One final time, accompanied by a call of "Blaine? Blaine, come on. Time to go." Still nothing.

Confused, Kurt pulled out his cell to see if he'd missed a call or text from Blaine indicating a change of schedule, but he saw none. He tried to call, but the call went straight to voicemail. With a brow furrowed in confusion and concern (and maybe a touch of irritation), he turned away from the door and directed his footsteps toward the cafeteria.

After making up a tray for breakfast, he made his way over to his usual table with the other Warblers he had come to call friends: Wes, David, Jeff, and Nick. They were happily chatting away, and Nick slid his tray over when Kurt approached to make sure there was enough room for him. Jeff, seated on the other side of Nick, leaned over and said, "Hey there, stud. Where's your boy toy?"

It took Kurt a moment to realize Nick was addressing him. "Uh, what now?" he asked.

"Well," Jeff drawled, "my roommate, your newly-acquired boyfriend, didn't come home last night," he said with a glint in his eye. "Soooo, I'm assuming last night's, ahem, _rehearsal_ , went well?" The other boys laughed around the table, and Nick nudged Kurt in the ribs.

Kurt, however, wasn't laughing. "What do you mean, he didn't come home? We finished practicing around nine and he left my room to get back in time for curfew." Kurt, having come to Dalton mid-term, had no roommate, so they'd taken to practicing their upcoming duet for Regionals there for privacy. If they had privacy for practicing a few other skills as well, all the better.

The levity had left the table when Kurt stated he hadn't been with Blaine. Wes spoke first. "Wait a minute. Jeff, he wasn't in his room last night?" Jeff shook his head in the negative. "And Kurt, he wasn't with you?"

"Of course not, Wes. We _just_ started dating. Geez." Kurt flushed at the idea of what Jeff had suggested, but got past it as he saw the concerned looks dart around the table. "Guys, where is Blaine?"

"Ugh," Wes groaned, "not this again."

"I thought we were fine when we cleared Sectionals without an incident," David added.

Similar comments and groans were exchanged among the boys, who were oblivious to Kurt's repeated attempts to interrupt. Finally, he slammed his hands down flat on the table with a loud "HEY!" that silenced them all (including the boys at the surrounding four tables). Having gained their attention, Kurt lowered his voice to a normal decibel level. "I'm asking again. Where. Is. Blaine?"

"I'm afraid Blaine is gone, Kurt," Jeff said, and Kurt's eyes went wide. What did he mean, gone? Run away? Missing? Or something worse?

"Jeff," David admonished, "don't put it like that. You're scaring the crap out of him."

"What? It's kind of true," Jeff said a little dejectedly.

With an eye roll, David turned to Kurt. "Blaine has a pattern of getting a little…intense…when we're heading into competition season, Kurt."

"Intense?" Kurt prompted.

Wes chimed in, "He takes his role as our main soloist very seriously – too seriously – and deals with the stress by throwing himself into preparations: extra rehearsals, workouts, diet, and so on."

"It's like a switch flips in him. The easygoing Blaine we know turns off, and Competition Blaine turns on," Nick added, and Kurt could hear the capital "C" in the title given to his boyfriend.

"Exactly my point," Jeff interjected. "That's what I meant. Our sweet little Blainers is _gone_ , and Competition Blaine has arrived."

"So where do you think he was last night?" Kurt inquired, trying to wrap his head around what he was being told and not liking the sound of it at all.

"Who knows?" Wes replied. "He could have been in the library watching videos of the competition, or in the rehearsal room working out his choreography, or at the piano trying to figure out seven-part harmonies."

"…and where do you think he is now?" Kurt added. All four boys glanced at the wall clock and then responded in unison, "the gym."

xoxo

Kurt opened the gym door – really, it was ridiculous for a high school to have a gym that rivaled most private fitness clubs – and the _thud thudthud_ sound told him to head for the heavy bag in the corner. Sure enough, there was Blaine, pounding away at the bag. Between his own fierce concentration and the ear buds he was wearing, he didn't hear Kurt approach. Knowing better than to startle someone who was in the process of beating the crap out of 90 pounds of sand, Kurt maneuvered his way around so that he was in Blaine's eyeline.

His heart fluttered when he saw Blaine's eyes crinkle as he smiled when he caught sight of Kurt. He didn't think he'd ever tire of seeing that smile, even if the eyes were a bit red, undoubtedly from a lack of sleep.

"Hey there, you," Blaine said, popping out his ear buds and approaching Kurt. He leaned over to keep his sweaty body away from his pristine boyfriend, only lightly touching his lips to Kurt's cheek in greeting.

"Hey," Kurt said softly, blushing a little even at the tiny kiss. "I missed you at breakfast," he began carefully, the words from the Warblers about Blaine's mindset still ringing in his ears.

"Oh, yeah," Blaine replied, returning his attention to the heavy bag and punching in between phrases, "I wanted to get a little work in before class this morning."

"Uh huh. Jeff said you didn't go back to the room last night after our rehearsal, either," Kurt added. Blaine continued as if that weren't unusual at all.

"I had some research to do and I didn't want to keep Jeff awake, so I just hung out in the library and kind of lost track of time. Speaking of," he said before Kurt could reply and looking at the clock over his head, "I'd better hustle if I'm going to get a shower and make it to my first class. He leaned over to kiss Kurt's other cheek, continuing past him to grab his gym bag, and headed for the door while pulling off his boxing gloves.

Kurt stood dumbfounded. This was not good. Not good at all.

xoxo

Their schedules didn't have them together too often, but whenever Kurt did see Blaine, either in the halls, or breezing through the cafeteria at lunch, it was like he was moving at double speed. He must have been running on adrenaline, or caffeine, or both. On a normal day, Blaine could be like a five-year-old on sugar, but that was nothing compared to this.

After dinner, which Blaine actually did attend and sit down long enough to eat, Kurt decided enough was enough. Maybe the other Warblers accepted this as just something Blaine does, but he was not going to let it continue. As they walked towards Kurt's room for another evening rehearsal, he started to implement his plan.

"You know what? Why don't you run down to your room and change into something more comfortable," he said. Blaine's eyes went wide and he smirked as only a teenage boy could. "No, not like that," Kurt said, blushing madly and smacking Blaine on the arm. "I just figure we've got some work to do, and we don't need to be in these uniforms any longer than necessary, right?" He got Blaine to agree and meet back at Kurt's room in ten minutes.

Once he arrived, dressed down in a t-shirt, hoodie, and relaxed jeans, Kurt closed the door behind him – and locked it. Blaine quirked an eyebrow at the sound. Kurt just looked at him and held out his hand, palm up.

"Cell phone," he demanded. "No interruptions or distractions, you know." Blaine thought it was odd, but complied. Kurt took his phone, muted the sound, and put it in his desk drawer. Then he walked over and sat at the foot of the bed, patting the spot next to him so Blaine would follow suit. Turning towards his boyfriend, he took both of his hands, looked into his eyes, and said something Blaine was not expecting: "Now, spill it."

Blaine was completely confused. It may have been the lack of sleep that prevented him from figuring out what Kurt was doing, but all he could ask was, "Spill what?"

With a sigh, Kurt ran his thumbs over the backs of Blaine's hands. "You stayed up all night last night to do "research" for Regionals. You skipped breakfast in favor of boxing, barely ate lunch, never sat down during Warbler practice, and don't think I didn't see you sneak out for a run before dinner, too. The guys told me you get like this during competition season, and I'd like to know why."

"I just want to do my best, Kurt. You know how it is. You mean to tell me the New Directions never stepped it up before a competition?" Blaine was sounding defensive, which Kurt wanted to avoid. However, he'd learned a thing or two about arguing with a stubborn teenager from one Burt Hummel.'

"Bull," he stated.

"Excuse me?" the defensive tone continued.

"Wanting to do your best never necessitated this kind of crazy routine, Blaine. There's more to it, and you're going to tell me so I can help you," the concern in his eyes belied the edge to his voice. A short stare-down ensued, hazel boring into blue, until Blaine's eyelids slid shut and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. A sigh escaped him, and his next words came out softly, all defensiveness gone.

"They're depending on me, Kurt," he said, eyes opening and looking back at Kurt again. Kurt could see how tired he was, physically and emotionally.

"Who's depending on you, sweetheart?" the pet name slipped out naturally without either boy seeming to notice.

"All of them. The Warblers . . . you . . ." he looked away at a spot on the floor. "I know we're a team, but they put me out in front, and I feel like it's all on me sometimes whether we win or lose. Every member of the group is amazing, but if I screw up, it's with the spotlight on me, and I'll ruin it for everyone. And now that we've got a duet, I need to make sure I'm especially perfect for your first competition solo."

Kurt's heart swelled with sympathy. It was a lot of pressure for a sophomore to take on, and since he seemed to handle it so well, nobody thought to give him any support. God, he'd done this last year as a freshman, too.

"Hey," Kurt nearly whispered, lightly turning Blaine's head back to look at him with two fingers under his chin, "you don't have to take this on alone. On your worst day, Blaine, you are amazing. All you have to do is be yourself – no more, no less – and no one can ask any more of you than that, not even you."

Blaine's eyes were glassy and he sniffled a little as he practically flung himself into Kurt's arms to cry. The emotion and lack of sleep had taken their toll. Although the boys had only been "officially" dating a few days, they'd been friends much longer than that, and Blaine needed his friend right now.

A few moments passed, and the soft sobs stopped as Kurt's hand traveled up and down Blaine's back in a soothing gesture. Blaine pulled away looking a little embarrassed. "I'm sor…" he began.

"Nope, don't even," Kurt cut him off. Blaine laughed a little, trying to compose himself and wondering how in the world he'd gotten so lucky as to become the friend and boyfriend of the boy in front of him.

"Now," Kurt continued in a soft but firm voice, "here's how this is going to go. You are taking a day off from everything – school, the Warblers, all of it. Just to make sure Competition Blaine doesn't return, I'm going to be your chaperone for this little getaway," Blaine blushed at the use of his alter-ego's title. Jeff and Nick may have shared that tidbit with him after competition season ended last year. Kurt continued, "we are going to watch movies, and talk, and you are going to eat three decent meals and get some sleep."

"Kurt," Blaine returned, "you don't have to do that. I'll be fine. I'll do better, I promise."

"Sorry, mister. Dr. Kurt's orders are for a complete Regionals detox, and that is what you'll get. Now come on, time to get some sleep."

Blaine's eyes widened. "Here?" he asked, suddenly becoming very conscious of the fact that he was sitting on Kurt's bed.

"If I send you back to your room, I can't guarantee you won't wander off to start knitting us all matching scarves or something," Kurt deadpanned. "I took the time when you were changing to text Jeff to let him know the plan. I also called us both off sick for tomorrow."

"Oh God, Kurt. You told Jeff I was sleeping here tonight? Why didn't you just put up a sign in the commons?" Blaine said as he dropped his face into his hands. "He'll never let us live this down."

Kurt pulled Blaine's hands away from his face – he'd become very tactile like Blaine in the past few months – and ducked his head to catch his eye. "I told Jeff very clearly that there was no funny business going on, and that if he implied otherwise, to us or anyone else, I'd make life very, very difficult for him. Fortunately, he knows me well enough to understand that I can do it." Kurt may have picked up a few things from Santana, too. When it came to defending the people he cared about, Kurt Hummel could be quite a force of nature.

After a little more arguing, Kurt finally got Blaine to agree, and after some awkward moments, they figured out the logistics and settled into Kurt's bed, lying side-by-side but not touching. Lights out, Kurt took a calming breath to quell the thrumming of his heartbeat at being next to Blaine in a bed, and closed his eyes.

"Kurt?" Blaine's whisper pierced the darkness.

"Yes, Blaine?" Kurt whispered back. He heard a soft shuffle as Blaine pulled his hand out from under the covers and rested it on top next to Kurt's side. Kurt mirrored the gesture, putting his hand next to Blaine's before the younger boy softly took hold of it.

"Thank you," Blaine said with a small quiver of emotion.

"You're welcome," Kurt returned with a light squeeze of his boyfriend's hand. He remained awake in the darkness until he felt Blaine's hand go slack in his and he heard his breathing even out. Competition Blaine had finally left, and the real Blaine - _his_ Blaine - was back. Kurt gently removed his hand, making sure not to move too much, and went to sleep with a smile of satisfaction on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Day

 _A/N:_ _Tried to come up with a different idea, but this one kept coming back around in my head._ _So hang on while my love of poetry kicks in and we get literary, y'all._ _Set during Original Song – after Kurt sings "Blackbird" but before Blaine makes his declaration._

Blaine had a free period and was walking down towards the Warbler's practice room to research some duet options for himself and Kurt. Along the way, a voice floated from an open classroom door that stopped him in his tracks. He'd know that voice anywhere. Kurt was in English Lit this period, and he'd told Blaine they were doing poetry this week. He must've been asked to read aloud, and Blaine couldn't help but listen.

 _Come to me in my dreams, and then  
By day I shall be well again!  
For then the night will more than pay  
The hopeless longing of the day_

 _Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times  
A messenger from radiant climes,  
And smile on thy new world, and be  
As kind to others as to me!_

 _Or, as thou cam'st in sooth,  
Come now, and let me dream it truth  
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,  
And say: My love! Why sufferest thou?_

 _Come to me in my dreams and then  
By day I shall be well again!  
For then the night will more than pay  
The hopeless longing of the day._

Blaine found himself leaning against the wall by the end of the poem, eyes closed and just drowning in the sound of Kurt's voice saying such romantic words. In addition to finding a good duet, he decided he had better come up with just the right way to express his own feelings to Kurt when the time was right.

xoxo

Later that evening, as he was about to turn off the light, Kurt took a quick glance at the photo on his phone of Blaine. He'd promised himself long ago to not get his hopes up – if the whole Valentine's Day debacle taught him nothing else, it taught him that. But reading these romantic poems all week, coupled with his emotions over the loss of Pavarotti and Blaine's sudden request that they do a duet together had hope knocking on his heart once again. So, he gave himself leave to look at the picture for just a moment, then he put the phone down on his nightstand and turned off the light. As he settled into his pillow, he quietly recited the end of the poem to himself, "Come to me in my dreams, and then by day I shall be well again…"

Little did he know that down the hall, another voice was also whispering softly while closing his hazel eyes, "For so the night shall more than pay the hopeless longing of the day."

 _A/N:_ _The poem is "Longing" by Matthew Arnold._ _Hope you liked it._ _Drop a note if you're out there reading!_ _I'm still a few days behind, but I'll keep trying._


	5. Chapter 5

Escape

 _A/N:_ _You just know this is something Blaine would do._

"Blaine?"

"Yes, Kurt."

"You do realize you're an adult, right?"

"Yes, I do, Kurt."

"You're thirty-two, Blaine."

"That is the truth."

"You have a job. And a bank account. And a mortgage."

"Agreed."

"All of these things would suggest you are a responsible member of society, would they not?"

"One would think so, yes."

Pause.

"So can you tell me, Blaine, how it is that your head is currently stuck in the banister at my father's house?"

Kurt stood in front of Blaine, who was kneeling on the stairs and, sure enough, had his head stuck between two spindles of the banister, his hands gripping the spindles on either side of his head.

"It's very simple, Kurt," he said with more conviction than one would expect from someone in his current position. "I was playing zoo with Ellie…"

"Our six-year old," Kurt interrupted.

"As there are no other Ellies around, yes, that one," Blaine retorted, adopting his husband's signature eye roll. "We were playing zoo, and I got a little carried away with the whole 'animal poking through the bars' idea."

Kurt couldn't suppress a grin, though he was trying to be the responsible adult here. He just shook his head, placed a hand under Blaine's chin, and said, "It's a good thing you're pretty," lightly kissing his trapped husband on the tip of his nose.

"Here you go, Kurt," the voice of Burt Hummel drew both mens' attention from each other as he handed a hand saw to his son. Blaine's eyes went wide at the sight of his husband wielding the sharp blade. Sure, he'd seen him twirl his Sai swords before, but never with the intent of going quite so near his jugular.

Kurt stood back, holding the saw upright and regarding Blaine with a head tilt. He squinted one eye and held up his other hand, thumb up, as if sizing up a picture. "Maybe just a little off the top," he joked.

"Ha ha," Blaine said, "you're hilarious. If you're done with your comedy act, would you mind getting me out of here? My back is killing me and I think I'm losing the feeling in one of my feet."

Kurt instantly felt guilty and ran over to begin sawing at the spindle, making sure to stay far enough away from Blaine to prevent any injury. Slicing through the banister was acceptable damage in this situation; slicing through his husband was not. A few minutes and some coaching from Burt later, Blaine was free.

Settled on the couch a little while later, a shamefaced Blaine accepted the shoulder rub Kurt offered. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot," he muttered. "I'll pay for your dad to get the banister fixed."

"You know Dad," Kurt replied. "He'll probably fix it himself."

"Well, then, I'll at least pay for the supplies." A few moments later, as his sore neck finally began to relax, a thought occurred to him. "Thank god it wasn't an iron railing," he chuckled.

It wasn't the increased pressure on his shoulder blade that made him catch his breath, but rather Kurt's nonchalant response of, "Oh, that wouldn't have been a problem. Dad's got a blowtorch."


	6. Chapter 6

Indecent

 _A/N: I know I'm skipping ahead, but I had to make sure not to miss this one._ _No, I'm not going to supply the indecent suggestions._ _I'll leave that to your imagination!_

It had been a long day of Christmas shopping, but they were nearly done. It was time for a caffeine boost, so Kurt and Blaine found themselves in line at the nearest coffee shop – along with, it seemed, half of New York City. The shop had decided to liven things up by having a group of carolers in the shop to perform while their customers (sort of) patiently waited. Kurt and Blaine even hummed along with a tune or two to pass the time – until _that_ song started.

Everyone has that one Christmas song they just can't stand – a perfectly good, normal holiday classic that, for some reason, grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Blaine saw Kurt tense up, and seeing as how they were still about five customers back from the barista, he knew he had to act quickly to keep Kurt from losing his mind in the next three and a half minutes. So, when the carolers began, "On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…" Blaine leaned over and whispered the next line in Kurt's ear.

Only he didn't sing, "a partridge in a pear tree." He sang something, well, a little naughtier than that. Kurt looked sharply over at his husband, giving him a questioning look and wondering what had gotten into him. Before he could reply, Blaine was on to the next line.

"On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me," and Blaine once again whispered a slightly suggestive alternative to "two turtle doves," and then repeated his partridge replacement line.

Kurt fought to keep his composure. They were in a crowded coffee shop, after all. There were kids and old ladies around, for heaven's sake. However, Blaine didn't miss the snort that Kurt attempted to stifle after his offering for the fifth day.

By the ninth day, the tips of Kurt's ears were red and he was trying to nonchalantly loosen the scarf around his neck. Each day's substitute line was getting more and more indecent, and Blaine wasn't helping matters by – seemingly innocently – putting his hand on Kurt's low back.

While all of this was going on, they had moved up a couple of places in line and soon would be next to order. Kurt tried to distract himself, but there was really nowhere to go and no way to escape the sound of his husband's melodic whispering in his ear.

Finally, mercifully, the carolers reached day twelve. In a feat that Blaine would brag about (privately, of course) for years to come, he successfully ran down all twelve of his made-up, sometimes x-rated, verses without missing a beat. He then moved away from Kurt's ear and grinned, quite proud of himself.

Kurt cleared his throat, grabbed Blaine's hand, and pulled him out of line.

"Let's go," he said quickly.

"But Kurt," Blaine said with a chuckle, giddy at having flustered his husband, "we're next to order."

"We've got coffee at home," he replied, dragging Blaine through the door.

"We're going home? But we're not done shopping yet and there is only a week left until Christmas!" he said in his best over-the-top, dramatic voice.

Kurt came to a halt and spun on his heel, stepping close to Blaine so that their noses were almost touching. The mischievous glint in his eye was matched only by the smirk on his lips. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. You see, today is the twelfth day of Christmas," he said in a low voice. His glance flicked to Blaine's lips and then back up again. This time it was his turn to whisper into Blaine's ear to finish his thought, saying, "…and I want my gifts from my true love."

Thankfully, they lived close by and they practically ran home.

A week later, they were hosting Burt and Carole for Christmas at their apartment. Everyone was chatting and having a nice time while Christmas music played softly in the background. When "The Twelve Days of Christmas" came on, Burt was the first to comment.

"Uh, oh," he said. "Blaine, you'd better change that station quickly. Kurt hates this song. It gets him so worked up!"

Blaine almost fell off the couch at Burt's comment (worked up, indeed), not helped by the sharp nudge in the ribs delivered by Kurt.

"No, Dad, that's okay," he said, grabbing Blaine's hand to pull him back towards his seat.

"What? Kurt, you've hated that song since you were a kid, buddy."

"I know, but people change, Dad. I don't know," he continued, glancing sideways at Blaine and squeezing his hand gently, "maybe I just never really listened to the words before."


	7. Chapter 7

Jumble

"This may be the worst idea since Spin the Bottle at Berry's nightmare of a party," Santana huffed.

"That was years ago, Santana," Blaine muttered, not really wanting to think too hard about that night.

"And yet here we are yet again making bad choices," Santana replied.

"Hey," Rachel complained, "Spin the Bottle was fun!"

"For you," Kurt snapped back at her sarcastically, earning an "Aww, honey," from Blaine, who leaned over to give him a consolation kiss on the cheek.

Santana chimed in again. "Can we cut the chatter and keep this thing moving? As much as I'm enjoying this quality time with you all, I'd appreciate getting Lady Hummel's butt out of my face."

"Hummel-Anderson," the couple said in unison.

"SPIN!" Rachel and Santana yelled.

"Okay, okay," Elliott laughed. He flicked the spinner and called out, "Right hand red." The four players shifted carefully in response to the instruction.

"Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed.

"What?" he replied with mock innocence.

"I don't think that's a legal move, Kurt," Elliot announced, eyeing Kurt's choice of hand placement and grinning.

"Hey. You said right hand red. That's my right hand, and his pants are red. If the back of his pants is the closest red thing, it counts."

"Kurt! Play fair," Rachel whined playfully. With an exaggerated sigh (and maybe a quick squeeze that made Blaine squeak a little indecorously), Kurt removed his hand and reached between his own feet for a red spot on the Twister mat. "There. Happy?"

Elliott just shook his head and spun again. "Left foot blue," he announced. The four all made their moves. An argument would ensue later on over who was the first to wobble, but in a flash, they all toppled over in a jumble of arms, legs, and laughter.

They untangled from one another and rose from the floor, laughing and pointing fingers and just generally enjoying the company while the December snow fell lightly outside the window. Kurt and Blaine headed for the kitchen to get some more refreshments. On their way back into the living room, Kurt stopped and looked at the scene before him. It was true that the past year had been a wild ride, and there were still times he wondered how they'd gotten to this point. But on nights like this, with his husband and a small but faithful group of friends, he felt it would all be okay.

"Penny for your thoughts," Blaine whispered, his hand sliding around Kurt's waist.

"Oh, just thinking how much our life has been like Twister. A series of seemingly random moves and people jumbled together in unexpected ways that somehow turns out to be hilarious and fun and perfect."

"You're quite the philosopher there," Blaine chuckled, pulling Kurt a little closer. Elliott's voice broke the moment when he said, "So, you guys want to play again?"

Four voices rang out in unison, "NO!"


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Just a super-short one this time..._

Legend

"So, the Druids considered mistletoe a sacred symbol of vitality, holding the soul of the tree on which it grew. They dedicated it to the goddess of love and never let it touch the ground to make sure its magic wouldn't go back into the earth," Blaine read aloud.

"Uh huh," Kurt responded somewhat distractedly as he fussed with an ornament on the tree.

"The Norse legend says that the goddess Frigga decreed that mistletoe would be a symbol of love and would never bring harm to anyone after a sprig of it was used to kill her son," he continued.

"What? That's weird," Kurt replied, glancing over his shoulder back at Blaine with a furrowed brow for a moment before returning his attention to the tree.

"Apparently, there was some prediction that her son would die, so she asked all the elements to not harm him. She overlooked the mistletoe, which fell into some kind of loophole because it grows on another plant, and Loki – ooh, like the Avengers…"

"Blaine," Kurt sighed.

"Right," he said, scanning the webpage again, "anyway, Loki shot a sprig of mistletoe at this guy and it killed him. So Frigga made it so the plant would never harm anyone again. Good news: in some versions of the legend, she was able to save her son. That's nice."

"You're getting way too interested in this," Kurt said with a chuckle, his voice closer than Blaine anticipated. While focused on reading the stories on his phone, he hadn't noticed Kurt approaching.

"In England, it was hung over doorways for good luck as only peace and happiness could pass beneath it." Kurt leaned down from where he was now standing directly in front of Blaine. With a quick motion, he snatched the phone from his hands.

"Hey!" Blaine exclaimed, looking up with a look of mock offense at his husband. Kurt took the phone and placed it on the table out of Blaine's reach. He then grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him up from the couch, standing close so that their noses were almost touching.

"All I did was randomly wonder out loud why people hang mistletoe at Christmas, Blaine. I didn't ask for a research paper," Kurt said softly, smiling as Blaine took the opportunity to slide his arms around his waist.

"I live to inform, babe," came the response, punctuated with a slight brush of noses.

"Well, I was always one to learn by example, not so much by reading," Kurt nearly whispered, shifting slightly in Blaine's arms and glancing upwards. He was holding a kissing ball of mistletoe directly over their heads.

It turned out that Blaine was good at giving _that_ kind of instruction, too.

 _A/N: Hi, all. The FF stats tell me people are viewing my stories, but I'm not sure if anyone out there is liking these or not - seven chapters in and no reviews or comments. I'd love if you'd drop a line to say hi. I write because it's a good creative outlet for me, but I'm not above wanting a little validation, too._


	9. Chapter 9

Moon

 _A/N: This is almost embarrassingly fluffy and schmoopy, even for me, but I love it._

Blaine and Kurt were taking a much-needed study break by strolling through the shopping mall, medium drip and grande nonfat mocha in hand, respectively. Kurt paused when they reached a bookshop that had a display window of classic children's books.

"Aww," Kurt cooed, drawing closer to the window. "They've got _Goodnight Moon_. That was always my favorite. Do you remember that one, Blaine?"

"No, not really," Blaine replied, trying to sound nonchalant and hoping Kurt wouldn't press further.

"No? It's a classic, Blaine! Everyone read this one as a kid. I remember my mom used to read it to me at night."

Blaine was quiet for a moment, shifting his glance away from Kurt and toward the window. "Not everyone was as lucky as you, Kurt," he muttered, then immediately realizing what he'd just said, he started apologizing quickly, "Oh, Kurt. I don't mean like that. I mean, you and your mom, I didn't mean…"

"Calm down, Blaine," Kurt interrupted, laying a hand on Blaine's arm. "I know you didn't mean that, but what exactly did you mean?" He ducked his head down to catch Blaine's eye and encourage him to look up. When Blaine didn't respond right away, Kurt tightened this grip on Blaine's arm slightly, leading him out of the mall to walk back to Dalton. "Come on," he said, "talk to me."

"It's nothing, really," Blaine began once they got out into the fresh air. "It's just that my mom didn't really take a lot of time with me like that when I was little. I was the unexpected child, the afterthought, so to speak – I mean, the age difference between Cooper and me alone…anyway, it's not like she was cruel or anything. I wasn't Oliver Twist, you know," he chuckled as Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately, "but we just didn't do a lot of those kinds of things. Dad wasn't overly nurturing, either. So anyway, I guess it just kind of hit me when you said you had that sweet memory of your mom reading that book to you."

Kurt couldn't speak. Not only could he not think of the right words to say, he knew that if he opened his mouth he would start to cry. It was a wonder that this boy had turned out to be so caring and compassionate when his own parents had been so, well, disinterested. So, instead of saying something trite, he just slipped his arm through Blaine's (they had reached the Dalton campus and he felt comfortable with a little PDA) and laid his head on his shoulder. He also started to form a plan in his mind.

The next night, as Blaine was getting ready to turn in for the evening, there was a soft knock at the door. "Blaine?" he heard Kurt's voice from the hallway. With curiosity and a little concern, Blaine crossed his dorm room and opened the door. "Kurt? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, no, nothing's wrong," Kurt was quick to allay Blaine's fears. "I just wanted to talk to you for a second. Can I come in?" Kurt hated that he sounded a little nervous. This had seemed like such a good idea, but actually standing there in the doorway, he began to second-guess himself.

Blaine was stepping aside and gesturing for Kurt to enter, which he did. He held something behind his back, and turned to make sure Blaine didn't see it. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Blaine shut the door and walked over to sit on the bed, which was really the only place to sit in the small dorm room. "So," he said after a brief silence, "what's up?"

"Well, I was thinking about our conversation yesterday, and I wanted to get you something. I went back to the bookstore and..." He pulled the package out from behind his back and handed it to Blaine, finally sitting down beside him. Blaine quickly opened it and, sure enough, inside was a copy of _Goodnight Moon_. "Kurt," he said, his voice full of emotion.

"I just thought it was about time you got the chance to read it. I know it's probably silly."

"It's not silly," Blaine rushed, looking up from the book to Kurt's eyes. "It's the nicest thing I've ever gotten," he said with sincerity. He looked back down and turned open the cover. Inside, Kurt had written, "To Blaine. Sweet Dreams. Kurt." He smiled at the inscription and looked back up to find Kurt smiling softly, as well.

"Do me a favor?" Blaine asked quietly.

"Of course."

He held the book out to Kurt and said, "Read it to me?" his voice was small and hesitant. Kurt could have kissed the living daylights out of his adorable boyfriend right then and there, but he resisted. He reverently took the book from him and watched as Blaine shifted to get under the covers and rest his back against the propped-up pillows. Blaine folded his hands in his lap, and looked expectantly at Kurt.

Kurt shook his head and smirked a little, then shifted on the bed as well to sit on the edge facing Blaine. Some might have found it odd, one teenage boy reading a children's story to another, but it felt natural to the two of them. These two had shared their insecurities and vulnerabilities from the onset. Blaine had started helping Kurt the first time they met; Kurt was happy to try returning the favor.

He read quietly and slowly, his melodic voice perfect for the cadence of the tale. Blaine watched and listened, picturing Kurt's mother reading to young Kurt, and then marveling at the turn of events that had led him to be able to listen to this beautiful voice read to him.

"Goodnight, room. Goodnight, moon," Kurt read aloud in a gentle rhythm. As he finished the final lines of "Goodnight, stars. Goodnight, air. Goodnight, noises everywhere," he glanced up and found that Blaine's eyes had drifted closed and his breathing had become soft and shallow. He'd slid down a bit on the bed, too, so his head now rested on the pillows his back had been leaning against.

Kurt silently closed the book and placed it on the night stand. He gently rose from the bed, trying desperately not to wake Blaine. He stood and regarded him for a moment, and dared to reach his hand over to lightly rest on the top of his head. "Goodnight, Blaine," he whispered with a barely-there kiss to the forehead. He tip-toed to the door, flipped the light switch to darken the room and slipped out the door with a quiet click of the latch behind him. What he didn't hear right after he left was a soft rustle of sheets and a sleepy voice whispering, "Goodnight, Kurt."

xoxo

 _Several years down the road…_

One more box and they'd be completely, totally unpacked. "Come on, baby, just one more," Kurt called to Blaine, who was trying to play dead by laying face-down on the couch. "It's your stuff, so you have to help." With a groan, Blaine rolled off the couch and crossed the room.

"You're so mean," he grumbled as he stood next to Kurt, who was rummaging through the box and placing its contents onto the dining room table.

"Yeah, yeah. Here. Put this in the bedroom, and put this…oh, my god, Blaine…" There in the box, carefully tucked between two other books, was a copy of _Goodnight Moon_. Kurt removed the book and held it in his hands like he'd just found a secret treasure. He looked from the book to Blaine, who was smiling affectionately. Kurt returned his gaze to the book. It was well-worn, with creases in the paper cover and a few small frays at the corners. With slightly trembling hands, Kurt opened the cover and saw his teenaged scrawl, "To Blaine. Sweet Dreams. Kurt." He felt tears starting to form as Blaine's hand came to rest on the small of his back. "I can't believe you kept this," he muttered in disbelief.

"Of course I kept it, Kurt. It was the first thing you ever gave to me," Blaine answered.

"It looks…well-read?" he said, searching for the right adjective.

Blaine used his free hand to lightly run his fingers across the cover. "I admit to having read it a few times. This little book got me through the times I had nightmares about Sadie Hawkins. I read it the first night after you moved to New York – a lot of nights after you moved to New York, actually. Times I missed you, times I was happy to have seen or talked to you. It was like having a little piece of you with me, Kurt."

"I'm surprised you kept it after we…after I…" Kurt tried to talk but his voice was faltering.

"It was especially precious to me then. I didn't read it for a while – that hurt too much – but it stayed in my bedside table. It moved with me to New York, and back to Ohio. And now, it's moved here to New York again. With you." He placed a light kiss on Kurt's temple. Kurt put the book down on the table, and turned to hold his husband.

That night, it was Kurt who asked for Blaine to read the book to him. Blaine knew the story by heart, but he still went page by page, just as Kurt had done all those years ago, and just as they would do with their own children in the years to come. Blaine insisted on buying each child his or her own copy for two reasons: one, so they could keep it with them forever, and two, because he wasn't willing to part with his own precious copy.

 _A/N: The book is, of course,_ Goodnight Moon _by Margaret Wise Brown. Goodnight, all._


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Hi, all. For those of you reading, thank you! I posted a chapter for the word "Moon" also, but the FF site didn't move the story up on the list to notify anyone of the update. (sigh) Anyway, hope it works properly this time, and if you're interested, go back a chapter to read_ _Moon_ _, as well._

Number

Blaine eyed the tall, gorgeous man sitting on the barstool across the room. Rolling his shoulders and tipping his head from side to side, he let out a cleansing breath and began his approach. "You got this, Anderson," he muttered under his breath. He took the few steps to his target and claimed the adjacent barstool in a single, fluid movement that caught the attention of the other man, just as he'd hoped.

The taller man turned towards the newcomer, his blue eyes shining in the soft overhead lighting. He eyed the dark-haired man appraisingly and gave him a small, but welcoming, smile.

"Hi there," Blaine opened. Nothing fancy. Start small.

"Hey," his companion replied, melting Blaine's insteps a little with the timbre of his voice.

"My name's Blaine," he returned, holding out his hand. "Kurt. Nice to meet you," the other responded, taking it in his own. The handshake lasted just long enough to be more than friendly but not so long as to be uncomfortable. They released each other's hands, but maintained eye contact as Kurt turned his body on the stool to face Blaine.

"So, Kurt, you come here often?"

"Oh, lord, really Blaine?" Kurt laughed, his posture changing. "That's the best you've got?"

"Kurrrrrt," Blaine whined. "Come on. You promised."

"Okay, okay. Sorry." Kurt shifted again, donned his best playful look, and softened his voice. "No, not really. It's my first time here."

"Well, then, it's my lucky night," Blaine sighed, leaning in towards Kurt slightly. Kurt giggled shyly, glancing down and then back up through his eyelashes.

"It just might be, at that." Kurt's hand slowly slid across to lightly cover Blaine's. In spite of himself, Blaine felt himself blush. Clearing his throat, he slipped his free hand into his jacket pocket and retrieved his phone.

"So, can I have your number?" he said, opening up his contacts screen and placing the phone in front of Kurt.

"Well, I don't normally do this, but…" he trailed off, taking the phone and quickly inputting the digits before returning it to its owner. He gracefully slid off the stool to stand and leaned over so that his lips were next to Blaine's ear. "Don't wait too long to use it," he whispered seductively. He pulled back to look directly into the hazel eyes he knew so well, holding the gaze briefly before turning and walking away.

He made it a few steps before turning around and holding out his hand. "You coming to bed now?" he asked, his voice back to normal but still soft and welcoming. Blaine stood from the barstool at their kitchen island and crossed the living room to join his husband. He took the outstretched hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it warmly and walking with Kurt to the bedroom.

As they walked, gently swinging their hands between them, Kurt said, "You know they imported all of your contacts from your old phone to this one when you bought it today, Blaine."

"Yes, but I deleted your contact info."

"You did what? Why?"

"Because getting your number this way," he said, releasing Kurt's hand and sliding his arm around his husband's waist to pull him closer, "was infinitely more enjoyable."


	11. Chapter 11

Ocean

 _A/N: Alternate first meeting story which finds Blaine and Kurt, both in their early 20's, as new next-door neighbors in an apartment complex in NYC._ _Thin walls and adjacent bathrooms make for good stories, don't you think?_ _PS, there has to be something wrong with me when the prompt of "Ocean" leads me to this._

Kurt hated mornings. One of the worst things about living with Rachel when they first moved to New York was her infuriating habit of rising at the crack of o-dark-thirty and doing vocal warm-ups and then full songs in the shower. Kurt could barely function before his first cup of coffee, and here was this girl belting out show tunes. Annoying.

He was living in a new place now, blissfully alone, and was going to relish his quiet morning ritual without the assault on his eardrums. He'd just stepped out of the shower and was starting his moisturizing routine when he heard water running on the opposite side of the wall. Neighbor noise was something he'd grown accustomed to in his Bushwick loft, so this was no surprise. What was a surprise, though, was the sound that followed.

" _Caribbean Queen, now we're sharing the same dream, and our hearts they beat as one, no more love on the run…"_

Swell. Another early morning singer. The voice wasn't bad – a strong, male voice with nice tone and pitch, but still. It wasn't even 7:30 a.m. Besides, who the hell sings "Caribbean Queen"?

Sighing in frustration, Kurt continued with his morning and hoped that his neighbor would either keep it down or slip on his soap. Okay, that was unkind. Maybe he'd just get laryngitis or something.

Apparently, the neighbor was quicker in his routine than Kurt, because Kurt heard the hallway door to the next apartment close shortly before he left, its occupant out of sight by the time Kurt walked out.

The next morning found Kurt once again following his morning pattern. At the same time as yesterday, he heard the running water start on the other side of the wall. "Please, don't sing. Or if you have to sing, don't make it _that_ song," he said to himself. He'd found himself singing "Caribbean Queen" all fricking day yesterday, and he had just gotten it out of his head.

Just when it seemed Mr. Morning Tune was going to shower in silence, he started crooning, " _Get outta my dreams; get into my car. Get outta my dreams – get in the backseat, baby…_ " (The last part was sung a full octave higher, to boot.) That was followed by a rousing chorus of, " _Ooh, can I touch you (can I touch you), and do the things that lovers do?_ " which Kurt found extra-inappropriate to be singing for the neighbors.

"Seriously?" Kurt huffed, slamming his hairbrush down on the counter. This guy was going to be the death of him. It wasn't bad enough that he felt the need to sing at the top of his lungs at this ungodly hour of the morning, he seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with Billy Ocean songs.

This time, Kurt had an early meeting, so he was out the door before his neighbor. One of these days, he thought, I've got to see this guy. He didn't realize that today would be that day.

After a long, long day, Kurt returned home to his building. Just as the elevator doors were about to close, he heard a man call, "Hold the elevator, please!" as a hand reached in and braced against the sliding doors. Kurt pressed the Door Open button (he was a gentleman, after all) and waited for the owner of the hand to enter. He looked up from the button panel to see a stunning man hurry inside the elevator car. Slightly shorter than Kurt, he was still well-built, with dark, curly hair and the most incredible eyes – hazel, he decided, but so much more complex than that. A flash of white teeth appeared as the man smiled in gratitude at Kurt.

"Thanks so much," he said. "This elevator is so slow, and I didn't really want to wait for it to come back down."

"Sure, sure, no problem," Kurt managed to stammer out, hoping he didn't sound like too much of a moron. "What floor do you need?" he asked, his hand hovering near the button panel.

"Six – oh, it's pressed already," Blaine said, glancing at the panel and then back at Kurt. His smile widened a little. "You must be the new guy on the floor. I'm Blaine, 6C," he said, extending a hand.

"Kurt," he offered, taking the man's hand in return, "6E, but you already knew that, I guess," he finished nervously before it hit him. 6C was the apartment directly next to him. "Oh, my god. You're Billy Ocean," he blurted out in disbelief.

"I'm what?" Blaine asked with a bit of confusion.

"You're Billy Ocean – well, clearly not _the_ Billy Ocean – but you've been singing his songs the past two mornings since I moved in."

Blaine's face flushed scarlet as his eyes went wide. "Oh, lord, you can _hear_ that? God, I had no idea, Kurt. I'm so sorry."

Kurt knew he should be giving this guy one of his evil glares. After all, he had the unmitigated gall to be all chipper and sing songs first thing in the morning, in total disregard of his neighbors. However, he seemed honestly shocked to find out that his voice (which Kurt really didn't mind, either speaking or singing) carried through the thin walls of the old building. Additionally, it was kind of hard for Kurt to be mad at a man this cute.

The elevator slowed to a halt and the doors opened. They had reached the sixth floor, which fact seemed to surprise the both of them. However, that was nothing to the surprise and embarrassment they felt when they realized they hadn't released each other's hands yet. Kurt recovered first, slipping his hand from Blaine's and stepping out into the hallway, holding the door open behind him for Blaine to follow. They started down the long hall together, knowing they were going the same way. After a second of silence, Kurt figured it was his turn in the conversation.

"No worries about the singing, really. I'm not much of a morning person, but my old roommate used to do it. Guess it's part of my destiny to have music in the morning." Kurt couldn't believe his own words, but he really couldn't object to anything this guy did.

"I'll try to keep it down if you like. I don't want to annoy you," Blaine said apologetically.

"No! No," Kurt was quick to respond. "Far be it for me to silence that voice," he continued, immediately wishing he could shove the words back in his mouth.

"You're too kind," Blaine replied graciously. "Well, this is me," he said, stopping in front of his door. He hesitated, a look of uncertainty in his eyes for a moment. Then he seemed to make a decision. "I was going to order Chinese for dinner, but it's always easier to order for two. Would you like to join me?"

Kurt paused, looking into those hazel eyes and then glancing over towards the door to his own apartment. His own, empty, dark apartment. While he relished the privacy, he missed having company, too. "Um, sure. Yes. Why not?" he said brightly, earning another big smile from Blaine.

They spent the evening talking, getting to know one another, and laughing. They discovered they had grown up not too far from each other in Ohio, had both been in show choir, and many other commonalities. The conversation flowed easily, and neither could remember falling into such a feeling of comfort with someone so quickly before.

Glancing at the clock, Kurt exclaimed, "Oh, geez, I didn't realize how late it was! You must have been wishing me gone ages ago."

"Not at all," Blaine replied, his voice soft and sincere.

"Anyway, I really should go. I've got to be up early tomorrow to catch the morning concert," he quipped.

Blaine smirked as he rose from the couch, and Kurt followed. Blaine held out his arm, bent at the elbow, and said, "May I walk you to your door?" Kurt hoped Blaine couldn't hear his heart pound at that question, which wasn't a worry, as Blaine couldn't have heard it over his own, anyway.

"Why thank you, kind sir," he said, taking Blaine's arm with a giggle. They walked through Blaine's apartment and down hall to Kurt's door, where Kurt produced his key and turned to Blaine to say good night.

"Thanks a lot for the dinner," he said shyly. Blaine had insisted on picking up the tab for dinner, saying it was the least he could do to make up for his morning music habit, despite Kurt's insistence that he didn't mind.

"So, um," Blaine stumbled, feeling just as shy and nervous as Kurt. "I guess I'll see you around? Soon?"

Kurt blushed and smiled, boldness creeping up on him upon seeing Blaine's discomfiture. "That the best you've got?" Blaine's eyes widened momentarily in surprise, then warmed as he laughed, both at Kurt's teasing and his own boyish nervousness.

"Okay, then. Let's try this again." Blaine squared himself to face Kurt head on. He looked directly into his blue eyes, capturing his gaze and holding it. Reaching for Kurt's hand, he took it gently in both of his own and said with a quiet, sincere voice, "Kurt, this was the best evening I've had in an unbelievably long time. I think you and I could have something special starting here, and I would very, very much like to take you out on a proper date this weekend." Stepping forward just a few inches closer to Kurt, he finished by saying, "So, Kurt, what do you say?"

Kurt's breath caught in his throat staring back at Blaine. He had expected a snarky retort, not the most eloquent, heartfelt request for a date ever. He took a half step forward himself, Blaine's hands still holding his, and let his heart speak for him when he said, "Nothing would make me happier." He punctuated it with a light kiss to Blaine's cheek that he held for a few seconds, and when he pulled back, it was to find Blaine's eyes fluttering open. Blaine smiled warmly, said good night, and forced his feet to take him back to his own door. Just before he reached it, he heard Kurt's voice call, "Blaine?"

"Yes, Kurt," he answered, turning back around quickly.

"Don't feel like you have to stop singing in the morning, okay?"

"Okay."

"Just…lay off the Billy Ocean, would ya?"

xoxo

A few months later, Kurt once again heard water running early in the morning. It was followed by a familiar voice singing. Blaine had, as requested, "laid off the Billy Ocean" over the past few months, opting instead for everything from Broadway tunes to Top 40 hits. Some mornings, Kurt even sang back – the first time he did that, Blaine almost forgot how to wash his own hair as he became mesmerized by the voice singing back to him.

This time, this morning, however, was different. The night before, the two of them had exchanged those three little words, and they'd never been happier. Kurt found himself laughing heartily as Blaine sang strongly, " _Suddenly, life has new meaning to me. There's beauty up above, and things we never take notice of. You wake up and suddenly…_ "

" _You're in love,_ " Kurt finished the line for him as Blaine stepped out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and a smile on his face.

"I see you don't mind Billy Ocean so much anymore," he chuckled as Kurt's arms wrapped around him.

"He may have grown on me a little," he responded, kissing Blaine soundly.

 _A/N: Songs are, obviously, "Caribbean Queen," "Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car," "When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Get Going," and "Suddenly"._ _If you don't know them, check them out online._ _Classic 80's stuff, kids._


	12. Chapter 12

Passion

Kurt entered the apartment after a long day and let out a sigh, closing the door behind him. Dropping his bag next to the door, he turned toward the room to see Blaine's back as he sat at the small upright piano they'd brought with them from the loft in Bushwick. The floor around the piano was littered with crumpled sheet music pages. Blaine's forehead was resting against the piano as he plunked out "Chopsticks." Badly.

Ah. So it was going _that_ well.

Blaine had been working on his final project for his music composition class for two weeks, and was having difficulty, to say the least. He had come close a couple of times, only to lose his way somehow and have to trash it all to start over. After the first week, he told Kurt he was giving up on using the electronic keyboards and composition software at school and was going to do it the "real" way with their upright, some sheet music, and a pencil. Unfortunately, the change of scenery and equipment hadn't been the magic pill he'd hoped it would be.

Kurt crossed the room and gently slid his hands across Blaine's tense shoulders, placing a light kiss to the side of his neck. "Hey, you," he greeted. Blaine left his head against the piano, but stopped playing and reached over to place his hand on one of Kurt's. "Hi," he returned dejectedly.

"Aww, honey, don't sound so sad. You'll get it," he encouraged.

Blaine finally sat up from the piano and turned on the bench to face Kurt. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Kurt. I keep trying, but nothing is coming. It's just not working. How do I expect to do this for a living when I can't write one stupid song for one stupid class?" His words came faster and faster as he continued, "I'm going to flunk this course, they're going to kick me out of school, and I am going to end up playing a Casio keyboard on the corner of 42nd street for pocket change, Kurt!"

Well, at least he wasn't panicking.

Kurt couldn't help but chuckle a little as he shook his head. "Blaine, you've got to get a grip, baby. You're working yourself up over this and it's not going to help. Come here," he said, grabbing Blaine's hand to pull him off the piano bench and over to the couch. "Sit down and listen to me." Blaine plopped onto the couch sideways and Kurt sat in front of him, taking his hands once more to ground him and keep his focus.

"You know that every artist gets blocked sometimes, whether it's writing songs or novels or painting pictures. Creativity is an inherently emotional thing, and harnessing it to a purpose is an inherently practical thing. Mixing emotions and practicality is always a challenge. You just need to have a little patience and reset. Now, this final project has some sort of theme, right?" Blaine nodded in assent. "Okay, what's the theme?"

"Passion," he sighed in exasperation. If he heard or thought of the word one more time, he was going to explode, he thought.

"Okay, good. _Passion_. You've got plenty of that," Kurt said saucily, winking at his husband and finally, finally eliciting a smile.

"You would know," Blaine volleyed back, arching his eyebrow.

"True. Anyway," he continued, still trying to be helpful, "despite my little joke, passion isn't really about sex. It's about love, and the deepest of devotion that drives you, whether that's to a person, or a cause, or your art. You know what I'm talking about, Blaine. I've seen you get lost in playing or singing the same way I do. I've seen you devote your time and your energy to a charitable cause, and I can personally attest to how devoted you can be to the ones you love." Blaine's eyes softened as he raised one of Kurt's hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

Smiling, Kurt concluded, "So, just focus on something you're passionate about, and see what comes out when you do that."

"Are you sure you shouldn't be teaching this course, Kurt?" Blaine asked, "You just helped me more than any lecture or critique I've received from this prof all semester."

"What can I say?" Kurt asked, rising from the couch. "I know passion." He kissed Blaine on the top of the head and started toward the kitchen to make dinner. "Now, back to it, mister."

xoxo

Two weeks later, Kurt sat nervously in the audience at the end-of-term showcase. Blaine was up next, and would be performing the piece he'd written for his final project. Kurt had heard it, of course, since it was composed and completed in his own living room, but seeing Blaine onstage playing his composition on a gorgeous grand piano in front of all of these people had the butterflies in Kurt's stomach swooping. One would think _he_ was the one performing.

One thing Kurt didn't know was the name of the piece. Blaine had refused to tell him for some reason, saying it was bad luck or something that Kurt didn't believe, but he didn't push the topic. Finally, the professor who was introducing the students stepped to the mic again and began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our next performer is a very promising student from our music composition program. Here to perform his original piece entitled "Kurt's Song," is Blaine Anderson."

The audience applauded as Blaine took the stage, but Kurt sat stock still. "Kurt's Song." Blaine had named the piece for him. While he was still processing the enormity of that, he heard Blaine's voice speaking into the microphone next to the piano.

"Thank you, Professor," he began. "The theme for our final composition project was "Passion." I admit that I had some difficulty with this project at first, until someone very dear and special to me helped me to remember what passion is really all about. After that, the notes practically wrote themselves, and this is how they came together. I hope you like it. This is for you, Kurt, my best friend, my one true love…my passion."

The performance earned Blaine a standing ovation from the crowd. As he stood to take his bow, his eyes met Kurt's. Kurt wanted nothing more than to run up and hug Blaine, but he restrained himself, not wanting to do anything inappropriate. But when Blaine held out both arms towards Kurt and tipped his head in a "come here" gesture, Kurt flew down the aisle to the stage and into the waiting arms of his husband. The applause grew stronger as Blaine pulled back, kissed away a tear from Kurt's cheek, and then turned him around to face the audience. They took a bow and left the stage to head home.

Blaine performed the song again that night to an audience of one, receiving another standing ovation, as well as some more personal, passionate praises.


	13. Chapter 13

Question/Regret

 _A/N: I'm combining these two prompts, as they seemed to naturally fall together for me (plus, it's easier to catch up this way…)._

It had been a busy weekend, and Sunday night found Kurt and Blaine cuddled on the couch together, with Blaine reclining against Kurt's chest and Kurt's arms wrapped contentedly around him. A question had been plaguing Blaine all day and now, safely lying in his husband's arms, he finally found the courage to ask it aloud.

"Do you regret our wedding?" he asked softly. The question came out of nowhere for Kurt, and he asked Blaine to repeat it, which he did.

"Of course not, Blaine," he answered, giving him a little squeeze. He paused, expecting Blaine to continue or explain, but he heard only silence. Seeing that something was obviously troubling his abnormally quiet husband, he moved his hands to rub gently up and down Blaine's arms, pulling him ever so slightly closer. Speaking gently, he asked, "What brought that question on?"

Blaine wrapped his arms around himself to settle his hands on Kurt's, which had stilled. After pausing to get his thoughts together, he began, "I was talking to Carole last night at the party." The previous evening had found them in Ohio celebrating Burt and Carole's wedding anniversary. "She told me all about how you planned their wedding for them – the flowers, the colors, the venue, food, music – every detail. She talked about how you were really in your element and how much you seemed to relish the experience."

Kurt started to see where Blaine was going, but he let him continue. "And…?" he prompted.

"Well, it got me to thinking about our wedding. You didn't get to do any of that. It was all planned for you. You didn't get to choose the date, the location, or any of the decorations. You had to share the day with another couple."

"It was a beautiful wedding, Blaine," he said, placing a kiss to Blaine's temple.

"Yeah, somehow I'm thinking that your plans for a dream wedding didn't include a barn in the Midwest." Blaine sighed, tensing up a little as he spoke. "You deserved better."

Kurt had had enough. He withdrew his arms and slid his leg out from where it rested between Blaine and the back of the couch to rise swiftly. Blaine looked up in shock at the sudden movement, fearing for a moment that Kurt was walking away, but Kurt only took the few steps necessary to move to the other side of the couch. He tapped Blaine's shin lightly to signal him to move his legs, which the man did by pulling them up and crossing them in front of him. Kurt sat sideways on the couch as well, mirroring Blaine's posture and taking his hands.

"Now you listen to me very, very carefully, Blaine Anderson-Hummel," he said seriously. "I do not regret a single second of that day. You're right – I didn't get to choose a lot of the details. But you know what? When I look back, I don't think about the flowers, or the food, or the music. I think about how I felt, and how you looked at me with such love, and how I never felt more perfect or complete. I made the most important choice of my life that day. I chose _you_. I chose the man I wanted to share the rest of my life with. Every day since that day, I have awoken and chosen to love you all over again, and every day you have chosen to love me, too." His voice broke a little as he looked into Blaine's eyes and saw them shining with unshed tears. Just as one escaped, he raised his hand to rest on Blaine's cheek and wipe it away with his thumb.

"So yes, while it would have been fun to plan a wedding and choose all those little things, I got to make the only choice that really mattered. I have no regrets." With that, Blaine surged forward to capture Kurt's lips in a kiss. When they parted a few moments later, slightly breathless and a little teary, Kurt once again looked into Blaine's eyes and smiled.

"I love you so much, Kurt," Blaine whispered.

"I love you, too," he replied. "Remember that always. No regrets."

"No regrets," Blaine affirmed.


	14. Chapter 14

Shift

"Curse you, Santana Lopez and your ridiculous high heels," Kurt muttered under his breath as he wiped down a table at the diner. Santana had fallen and severely sprained her ankle, requiring her to stay off her feet for a week. Gunther told Santana it was her responsibility to find someone to cover her late-night shift, and after much cajoling and a little threatening, Kurt had agreed to take the first night. So, he found himself working at the Spotlight Diner this Sunday evening.

Things slowed down considerably at the diner after dinner time. It was coming up on midnight, and his last few customers had included some obviously intoxicated teenagers who (thankfully) found the place less attractive after a couple of New York's finest came in for coffee, as well as a weirdo who was very polite but insisted on calling Kurt "Steve."

A couple of college students were now holed up in corner with their laptops guzzling coffee and using the free WiFi, but other than that, the place was empty. "Two more hours," Kurt thought, glancing at the clock for the hundredth time that evening.

He heard the bell as the door swung open and cringed, wondering what new, strange customer would be his next challenge. He turned and raised his eyebrows in surprise. In the doorway stood a man, dressed in a navy wool pea coat and dark jeans. Dark, curly hair peeked out from underneath a gray and navy beanie, and a matching scarf was at his throat. His most surprising accessory was a guitar case slung over his shoulder.

Remembering his job, Kurt walked forward. "Hi, welcome to the Spotlight Diner," he greeted the man with more enthusiasm than he'd shown any other customer that evening. He winced, hoping it didn't sound too perky for so late in the evening. "I'm Kurt, I'll be your server this evening. Can I show you to a table?"

"Hi, Kurt," the man responded brightly, holding out his hand. "I'm Blaine."

Kurt looked down at Blaine's hand and back up at his face. Blaine flushed a little, whether from embarrassment or from coming in from the cold, Kurt couldn't tell, but with a chuckle, he decided to save Blaine's dignity and shake his hand. "Nice to meet you, Blaine," he laughed.

"Sorry," Blaine said, withdrawing his hand. "Not quite sure why I did that." So, the flush _was_ embarrassment, Kurt thought. Kinda cute.

"No worries. At least you got my name right. The last guy in here kept calling me Steve."

"That's ridiculous," Blaine bantered back. He looked Kurt up and down appraisingly before continuing, "You're definitely not a Steve."

A cough from one of the college students in the corner broke the little bubble that the two had formed around themselves and they realized they were still standing near the door. "Come on," Kurt said, "have a seat." He led Blaine over to a seat at a booth. Blaine laid down his guitar across one seat, and sat down on the other side of the table.

"So," Blaine said, perusing the menu that Kurt had produced from somewhere, "what's good here?"

"Well, the coffee's passable for starters," Kurt replied with a face that may have indicated otherwise. Blaine nodded and Kurt took the few steps behind the counter to pour him a cup. "Be right back," he said as he put it down. Blaine watched as he swiftly crossed to the other side of the diner to check on the college kids. They paid their tab and left, leaving Kurt and Blaine alone in the dining room.

Returning to his now only customer, Kurt gestured toward the bench across from Blaine and asked, "May I?" It had been a long shift, and he could use the break. Blaine agreed with a smile. Kurt carefully slid the guitar case over a few inches and perched himself at the edge of the bench.

"So, what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" Kurt said with an exaggerated wink.

"Wow, you talk to all of your customers that way?" Blaine asked, causing Kurt to blanch momentarily. "Kidding! I'm just kidding," Blaine hurriedly added. "Since you ask, I'm just coming from a recording session at a studio down the block."

"A recording session – at this hour?" Kurt inquired.

"Yeah. I'm working part-time as a session musician for the studio – you know, doing background music for demos and such. The pay is lousy, but the guy who runs the place is a friend of a friend, so he agreed to let me use the studio in the evenings to work on my own demo. I just called it a night and was heading for the subway when I saw this place and realized I hadn't eaten in hours."

"Wait a minute," Kurt said, dramatically holding out his hand. "Are you trying to say you are _literally_ a starving artist?"

"Um, no, I think _you_ are the one who said that. Me, I'm just sitting over here hungry."

"Oh, my gosh. I'm so sorry!" Kurt said, jumping to his feet and grabbing his notepad. "Geez, Blaine. What can I get you?" he nervously clicked his pen and poised it above the notepad.

Blaine laughed but took advantage of the situation to order because he was really close to starving. Order placed, Kurt disappeared behind the counter to do some busy work, staying close to the kitchen so he'd be able to grab Blaine's order the second it was ready. Returning to the table with Blaine's burger, fries, and milkshake, he asked if Blaine needed anything else. He expected to be asked for condiments or napkins, but wasn't expecting the request that did come.

"Some company, if you're not too busy?" Blaine asked, looking around at the empty restaurant with a smirk. There really wasn't anything to do, and Kurt was due a break, so he accepted with a smile and resumed his place across the table.

The two chatted away happily, Kurt doing more talking at first to allow Blaine to eat. He told Blaine how he was working while going to NYADA, about his roommates Rachel and Santana, and even about Santana's accident which had resulted in his turn on the night shift. Blaine eventually chimed in with his own story of being a music student at NYU, working at the studio as well as playing gigs in a couple of coffee shops.

The conversation flowed naturally, covering common interests, families, and the like. When Blaine was done, Kurt got up to clear the table and Blaine rose to help him. "Blaine, just sit. It's my job to clean up."

"Sorry. Force of habit." Kurt smiled at the well-mannered young man, obviously a product of the private school he'd talked about earlier. He returned to the table to find that Blaine had taken out his guitar and was sitting on the table strumming. "So, I thought this was one of those restaurants where the servers are supposed to perform," he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning.

"Ordinarily, that's just for the lunch and dinner crowd," Kurt paused, tilting his head, "but if I had some accompaniment, I might be prevailed upon to sing for you – provided, of course," he added saucily, "you can keep up."

Blaine laughed and picked a few notes on the guitar, tuning it after having gone from the warm studio to the cold outdoors. "Let's see," he said, narrowing his eyes and staring at Kurt. "If I was a song to be sung by you, what would I be?" He played a few notes, then said, "Ooh, I've got one. You know this?" He played a few opening notes, and Kurt nodded in recognition. Taking a seat on the table across from Blaine's and folding his hands in his lap, he began singing.

 _Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise_

Blaine's breath caught in his throat at the sound of Kurt's voice. His speaking voice was a little high, but Blaine hadn't been prepared for the bell-like countertenor tone that came out of Kurt's mouth with seemingly no effort at all. He hadn't planned on singing along, but couldn't help chiming in with some background vocals as Kurt continued.

 _Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free_

Kurt smiled when Blaine began to accompany him vocally. He had a warm, deep voice that fell together beautifully with Kurt's own. Blaine switched from just singing "bum bum bum" in the background to harmonizing on the lyrics when Kurt reached the chorus.

 _Blackbird fly, blackbird fly  
Into the light of the dark black night_

 _Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

As the guitar sounded its last chord, the two looked at each other. "Kurt," Blaine said with wonder in his eyes and a slight catch in his voice, "that was beautiful."

Kurt blushed at the praise. "I was going to say the same thing to you," he replied shyly. Unable to continue looking into Blaine's golden hazel eyes, he glanced at the clock and saw it was just past two a.m. Blaine followed his gaze and then looked back at Kurt. "Am I keeping you?" he asked.

"We close at two," Kurt answered remorsefully. "I've got to close up and head home."

Blaine gazed at Kurt for a second, then gave a small smile and slipped off the table. "I should get out of your way, then," he said quietly, putting his guitar away and grabbing his coat. Kurt stood from his own table and was just trying desperately to figure out a way to ask for Blaine's number when Blaine suddenly spun around and asked, "Are you working the late shift again tomorrow night?"

Startled, Kurt responded, "What? Um, yeah, I mean, yes, yes I am." This would be news to Santana and Gunther, as Kurt had sworn he'd only be working one night shift this week.

"That's great," Blaine said excitedly, then widening his eyes and backtracking a little, "I mean, I'll be working late at the studio all week, so maybe I could drop by again or something." The warmth in his eyes belied the nonchalance he tried to convey with his voice.

"Sure," Kurt said, his courage returning a little. "That would be nice. You can tell me more about your demo album."

"And maybe we can do another duet – your choice, next time."

"I'd like that."

An awkward silence fell between them. Blaine finally said, "Well, I should go and let you get out of here." He picked up his guitar case and put it back upon his shoulder. "Walk me to the door?" he said, holding out his arm for Kurt to take. It seemed someone else had found his courage, as well.

Giggling, Kurt took Blaine's arm and walked him to the door. "See you tomorrow, Blaine," Kurt said, moving to remove his hand from Blaine's arm.

"See you tomorrow, Kurt," Blaine returned, catching Kurt's hand in his own and holding it lightly. Kurt subconsciously bit his lower lip as Blaine leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek before releasing his hand and walking out the door. Kurt watched him walk away, waving when Blaine looked back.

With a sigh, Kurt locked the front door and headed back to close the diner down. He grabbed his phone as he walked out of the diner and sent a quick text to Santana to let her know he'd cover her late shift for the rest of the week. As he put the phone back in his pocket, he muttered, "Bless you, Santana Lopez, and your ridiculous high heels."

 _A/N: The song is "Blackbird" by The Beatles, of course. A gorgeous song in its own right, and one of my favorite Glee performances..._


	15. Chapter 15

Time

 _A/N: This is more of a "T" rating._ _Nothing smutty; just a little suggestive._ _Inspired by Darren Criss' mad tweets about Star Wars._ _Also, Kurt's line about Darth Vader is from Chris Colfer's Twitter page. (True story.)_ _Fear not, there are no movie spoilers here._ _I haven't seen it yet, either._

"Kurt! Come on, we're gonna be late!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Kurt's voice came from the bedroom as he made his way into the living room. "We've got plenty of time, Blaine," he added.

"Not if we want to get decent seats. The place is going to be packed. This is the biggest movie in the history of ever!"

He was talking, of course, about _Star Wars: The Force Awakens_. Blaine had purchased advance tickets for the premiere weekend the second they had become available. He'd been counting down the weeks, days, and for the past two days, the hours until show time.

"Okay, okay. Keep your shorts on," Kurt admonished affectionately, moving around the living room to grab his phone, keys, and jacket. Blaine was practically bouncing out of his shoes as he stood by the door.

"All right, that's everything," Kurt said. "Let's do this," he said, grabbing Blaine's arm and heading out the door. "So _Star Wars_ – that's Darth Vader, right?"

"Kurrrrrrt!" Blaine whined.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Kurt laughed. He wasn't kidding, though. He had been a little late coming out of the bedroom because he'd been looking up _Star Wars_ on his laptop. He'd seen the movies with Blaine – or at least, he'd been in the room when they had been on – but he hadn't really paid much attention. He didn't dislike them; they just weren't his thing. Blaine was supposed to go to see this with Sam, but Sam had cancelled at the last minute because he was sick. When Kurt saw the disappointed look on Blaine's face, he immediately offered to go in Sam's stead. Blaine wouldn't want to go alone, and Kurt was more than happy to accompany him so he could have the evening he'd been anticipating.

xoxo

The theater let out and everyone was ecstatically talking about how fantastic the movie was, Blaine as much as any of them. Kurt loved seeing him so excited like this, and he actually hadn't been as bored as he thought he would be.

Walking home, Blaine slipped an arm around Kurt's waist and pulled him close. "Thanks," he said softly, kissing Kurt on the cheek.

"For what?" Kurt asked.

"I know this wasn't your ideal way to spend a night, Kurt, but you did it for me, and I appreciate it," he said warmly. Kurt put his own arm around Blaine and pressed him closer to his side in response.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. I'm glad you had fun."

"You know, it's only fair that I return the favor," Blaine added, his voice dropping to a lower register.

Kurt arched an eyebrow and looked sideways at his husband. "Do tell," he flirted back.

"Well, I know that sci-fi isn't really your cup of tea, and it must be bothering you to see me in all this," he said, gesturing to his _Star Wars_ t-shirt and socks. ("The one time in your life you wear socks, Blaine, and you wear those," Kurt had admonished.)

"Anyway, I figure you were kind enough to sit with me while I wore my _Star Wars_ stuff, the least I can let you do is take it off of me."

They'd reached their front door. As Kurt fumbled for his keys, he turned to Blaine. "Well that sounds like a fun way to end the evening," he laughed.

"You have no idea," Blaine said, leaning over so that his lips were next to Kurt's ear. "Did I forget to tell you I'm also wearing those crazy _Star Wars_ boxers you got me – you know, the ones with the strategically placed lightsaber?" he whispered.

Kurt's eyes went wide as he pulled Blaine in and shut the door behind him. He started to rush across the apartment, still dragging Blaine by the hand.

"What's the hurry, love?" Blaine asked innocently, cheering internally at his husband's impatience.

"It's show time, and we don't want to be late!" Kurt replied as Blaine caught him from behind and they giggled their way to the bedroom.


	16. Chapter 16

Underneath

 _A/N: Short and a little sentimental…_

Three tree lots. Eight strands of lights. Four giant boxes of ornaments, garlands, and a single crystal star. It had taken most of the evening, but Blaine and Kurt's first Christmas tree as a married couple was finally done. Blaine turned off all of the other lights in the apartment and they stood back to admire their handiwork.

"Come with me," Kurt said quietly, taking Blaine's hand and leading him closer to the tree. He sat on the floor in front of it, and spun around so his back was to it. Blaine regarded him with curiosity, but followed suit and waited for Kurt to explain.

"My mom and I used to do this," he started, scooting forward a bit and then leaning back on his elbows before carefully lying flat on his back with his head underneath the tree. "She said the lights looked prettier this way, and it was like being inside the tree."

Blaine smiled softly and mirrored Kurt's actions so that he, too, was lying underneath the tree and looking up. He shifted over the few inches necessary to press his side against Kurt's and tilted his head to rest on Kurt's shoulder.

"Wow, this is beautiful," Blaine breathed. It was a completely different perspective, almost like looking at a night sky full of multicolored stars. "Thanks for sharing this with me, Kurt."

"I haven't done this since she died," Kurt said. There was a small catch in his voice, but he wasn't overwhelmed or sad. A squeeze from Blaine's hand prompted him to clarify that for Blaine. "No, it's okay, really. I haven't wanted to do it any other year, but somehow being here with you, with our own tree, I thought it would be nice. She would have liked you, and she would have wanted you to see this."

Blaine moved his head from Kurt's shoulder and turned to look him in the eye as Kurt did the same. "I love you, Kurt," he whispered.

"I love you, too," Kurt whispered back, leaning over for a kiss. "Merry Christmas, Blaine."


	17. Chapter 17

Wish

 _A/N: This is kind of a ridiculous concept, I know, but then I remembered that I'm anonymously writing stories about fictional characters on a TV show that isn't even on the air anymore, and I figured, why not?_ _This will be my last fic until after the holidays, as I'm spending a few days with the fam so (a) I won't have access to my computer and (b) they don't know I do this._ _(Hee hee.)_ _Merry Christmas!_

Kurt sat outside on the fire escape enjoying the warm night air. It was sixty degrees on the twenty-fourth of December in New York – record-setting warmth that was just unheard of. Kurt silently blessed El Nino and sipped his tea. He heard a rustling sound and turned to see Blaine coming out of the window to join him.

"Hey, there you are," he said quietly, giving Kurt a peck on the cheek before settling in next to him. He held up his own cup of tea and clinked his cup with Kurt's. "Cheers, and Merry Christmas," he said making Kurt giggle.

They sat quietly listening to the sounds of the city below them. The moon was full, adding a glow to the city lights, and though it was difficult to make out any stars, they looked toward the sky anyway.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Blaine asked, breaking the silence.

"I was just remembering a Christmas Eve long ago," Kurt began, his voice a little distant. "I was fourteen, I think, and having a bit of a difficult time. I was beginning to understand how I was, you know, _different_ from the other boys," he paused and Blaine nodded in understanding, "and I was just missing my mom so badly. I sat at my bedroom window long after my dad thought I'd gone to sleep, and suddenly I saw a shooting star. Silly romantic that I was, I made a wish – I wished that someone would find me and love me for who I was."

He turned to look at Blaine, obviously implying that he'd been the answer to that wish. He found Blaine's expression was one of surprise and, what was that – confusion? Disbelief? "What?" Kurt asked with a tilt of his head and concern in his eyes.

"You said you were fourteen, Kurt?" Blaine asked, his voice a little shaky.

"Yeah. Yes, come to think of it, I know I was fourteen. Why?"

"That would have been the Christmas when I was thirteen," Blaine answered, still with the unusual expression on his face and a slight tremor in his voice. Kurt was quiet as he continued. "I had just come out to my family, and my dad wasn't taking it well. At all. I couldn't sleep, so I went to the back yard and sat there, in the cold, looking up at the stars. It was a little after midnight, I remember, and I saw a streak of light flash across the sky. For a split second, I thought about Santa Claus – not that it was him, you know, but of how coincidental that was. Anyway, I knew it was a shooting star, so I made a wish." Blaine's eyes had drifted upwards toward the moon as he talked, but his gaze returned to Kurt's face as he spoke the last sentence, looking pointedly into his husband's wide blue eyes.

Kurt's mouth had dropped open slightly as he realized what Blaine was saying. "You don't mean…" he trailed off, unable to complete the sentence.

Blaine nodded slowly. "Kurt, we saw the same shooting star that night. You in Lima; me in Westerville. Not only that," he added, reaching over and taking Kurt's free hand in his, "we made the same wish." He looked down at their joined hands and rubbed his thumb over the shining platinum band on Kurt's left hand. Looking back up, he continued, "Kurt, I wished that night for someone to love and accept me for me, just like you did. And then we found each other that day at Dalton, and I knew my wish had come true."

Kurt's eyes were shining with unshed tears. He smiled and shook his head in amazement. He put his tea cup down on the fire escape, then reached over to take Blaine's from him and do the same. He cupped Blaine's cheek with his right hand, his left still joined with Blaine's, and leaned in the few inches necessary to kiss him softly. Once they parted, Blaine said, "You know, no one would ever believe this story if we told them."

"Oh, we're never telling this story, Blaine," he responded quickly. "This is just for us. No one else." They shared another kiss, then decided to go back inside for the evening. As they crossed the living room and headed to the kitchen to freshen their teas, Kurt heard Blaine start to hum. Immediately recognizing the tune, Kurt chuckled and then began to sing the words:

 _When you wish upon a star  
Makes no difference who you are  
Anything your heart desires  
Will come to you_

 _If your heart is in your dream  
No request is too extreme  
When you wish upon a star  
As dreamers do_

 _Fate is kind  
She brings to those who love  
The sweet fulfillment of  
Their secret longing_

 _Like a boat out of the blue  
Fate steps in and sees you through  
When you wish upon a star  
Your dreams come true._

 _A/N: The song is "When You Wish Upon a Star" from Walt Disney's_ Pinocchio _. Keep wishing on those stars, and sweet dreams to you all._


	18. Chapter 18

Yesterday

 _A/N: I know this is a few days late, but I was away from home for the holiday._ _I wanted to get in my last entry for the Klaine Advent Drabbles challenge._ _One final holiday tale of our boys being all lovey and wonderful, just the way I like them!_

Kurt shifted slightly under the covers, taking a deep breath through his nose and burying his head a little further into his pillow. He was so warm and cozy that he didn't want to open his eyes. However, a kiss on the back of his neck and an arm tightening around his waist from behind started to draw him from his sleep and into wakefulness. "Mmm," Kurt hummed appreciatively. "Good morning," he said in his sleepy voice.

"Good morning," Blaine answered, his voice soft in Kurt's ear. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas," Kurt answered, reaching a hand back and threading his fingers through Blaine's hair. He loved these moments of quiet first thing in the morning. He was excited for them to spend their first Christmas together as husbands, but…wait a minute. _Merry Christmas_? The sleep fog began to lift and Kurt finally blinked his eyes open. "Blaine?"

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine responded, placing another kiss behind Kurt's ear.

"Um, wasn't Christmas yesterday?" Blaine chuckled, and Kurt could feel the vibrations in his back, which was pressed against Blaine's chest.

"Well, technically, I guess," Blaine began, "but I just thought…" he trailed off. Kurt lifted Blaine's hand to his lips and gently kissed his knuckles. He rolled onto his back and turned his head to look into Blaine's eyes. "You thought what?" he asked softly.

Blaine blushed a little and sat upright, folding his hands in his lap. He looked down shyly at his hands and Kurt sat up as well. Meeting Kurt's eyes again, Blaine continued. "Yesterday was Christmas, yes, and I loved spending time with everyone – Burt and Carole, Rachel, Mercedes, Sam – it was great, and really a wonderful Christmas Day. But," he paused, taking Kurt's hand, "we didn't really get much time alone together. I wouldn't have traded time with our family and friends for anything, but I thought maybe we could have an extra Christmas Day that was just for the two of us, you know?"

Kurt was quiet for a moment, an affectionate smile on his face as he regarded his sweet, romantic, adorable husband. "How do you do it?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's brows furrowed in confusion. "Do what?"

Kurt turned on the bed so he was sitting facing Blaine with his legs crossed in front of him. "Come here," he said, pulling on Blaine's hand to encourage him to sit facing Kurt, as well. "Somehow, just when I think I can't love you any more than I do, you manage to do or say something that just makes me fall for you a little bit harder."

The smile on Blaine's face was so wide and happy that Kurt couldn't resist launching himself at his husband, laughing as they both almost rolled off the bed. After some additional kissing and laughing, Kurt asked, "So, what do we do on our special extra Christmas?"

"Well, how about we start with your special Christmas pancakes?" Blaine said, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning from ear to ear.

"Excellent idea," Kurt answered. "But you've got to get off of me first," he chuckled, shoving Blaine's shoulders lightly.

Breakfast was made together, dancing around the kitchen while Christmas tunes played in the background. They opened a couple of presents that they had held back to open with just each other – the day had gotten so busy, they hadn't had time to open them the day before. Getting dressed, they headed out into the city for a little while. They took the subway to Midtown and went skating at Bryant Park, then strolled up Fifth Avenue to look at some of the shop windows and looped around to see the tree at Rockefeller Center.

Hot chocolates in hand, they headed back home and made a nice dinner, which they enjoyed by candlelight. They'd been lucky enough to get an apartment with a fireplace, which Kurt lit. The only light in the room was from the fireplace and the lights on the Christmas tree. They cuddled together on the couch, watching the flames in the fireplace and talking quietly about all sorts of things – the past, their future, and the amazing circumstances that had led them to this moment. Kurt glanced at the clock and saw it was approaching midnight. "Looks like our extra Christmas is almost over," he said into Blaine's ear. They'd changed positions on the couch a couple of times, and at present, Kurt was stretched out with Blaine leaning back against him.

"All good things must come to an end, I guess," Blaine sighed a little sadly.

After a moment, Kurt tightened his arms around Blaine. "Hey," Kurt cooed. "Don't sound like that. This was the best Christmas ever, Blaine."

"Even if Christmas was really yesterday?" Blaine asked, a tone of playfulness coming back into his voice.

"That made it even better," his husband replied with sincerity. "It belonged to just you and me, and that made it so special and wonderful, I can't even tell you. Thank you for that."

Blaine turned in Kurt's arms and slid his hands around his waist. "You're welcome," he punctuated his response with a kiss. They made a promise to each other that each year, they would be sure to spend their extra Christmas Day together. It wouldn't matter if the "real" Christmas was yesterday, or the day before that – so long as they spent it with each other, it would be Christmas for them.

 _A/N: Well, kids, that does it for my 2015 Klaine Advent list. I hope you enjoyed the stories. This was a real treat for me, as I haven't ever written this much or this frequently. To those of you out there who have been reading along (you're a quiet bunch, but I know you're out there – I can hear you breathing), thanks ever so much. If you want to leave me a late Christmas gift of a comment, that would be lovely, btw._


End file.
